The Scourge of Baseness. OR The old Lerry with a new Kicksey, and a new cum twang with the old Winsye. Wherein john Taylor hath curried or clapperclawed, near a thousand of his bad Debtors, who will not pay him upon his Returns from Scotland Germany, Bohemia, the voyages of the paper boat, and his Navigations to York and Salisbury with Oars.  

My Debtors like seven Eels with slipry tails,  
One sort 1 catch, six slips away and fails.   
London, Printed by N. O. for Matthew Walbanck●, dwelling in Graves 〈…〉   

TO THE MIRROR OF GOOD FELLOWSHIP, THE Pattern of true Friendship, and the only nonparallell of jovial Entertainment; Mr. Andrew Hilton, at the sign of the horse-shoe, at Daintree; I. Tailor wisheth daily increase of good Guests, tue payment, hearts content in this life, and afterward as much happiness as his soul can desire.  
KInd Sir, I have seen oftentimes men offering to snusfe a candle, have against their wills put it clean out; and an unskilful Chirurgeon taking a small green wound in hand, hath brought it to an old Ulcer. I would be loath, for my part, to imitate either of these examples; for my intent is, confession of the wrong I did you: and an endeavour to make amends. I do confess that I did you wrong in print, in my book of my Travels to Scotland, and now in print, I do make you a public satisfaction; For, I protest to God, that I have heard so much good report of you, that I am double sorry that I was so mistaken, and that I have been so long time before I have printed my recantation. It was your Tapsters want of wit and manners, and my want of discretion, that was the grounds of my too much credulity and temerity. For his part I wish him no more harm, but that chalk may be his best payments, Thunder may sour his Hogsheads, Rats gnaw out his spigots at midnight, and himself to commit his wit to the keeping of a fool or a knave while helives; And your ostler's, for gaping so greedily like gudgeons upon me, I pray that they may every day mourn in litter and horse-dung. But these are but jests by the way, for as many as knows you, have told me that if you had been at home, my entertainment had been better: if it had been so, it had been more than you owed me, and more than I at that time could have required: but I would have stretched my wit upon the tenters of Invention, in the praise of Inns and Innkeeper's; I would have put the forgetful world in mind of the good service that Rahab the Innkeeper did at jericho, in hiding and preserving the spies that were sent by Caleb and joshua; I would have made the oblivious loggerheaded Age remember, that the Redeemer of the world did grace an Inn with his blessed birth: What place then but an Inn was the High Court of Heaven and Earth, the residence & lodging of the immortal King, of never-ending eternity? This and more I would have done, but what is passed cannot be recalled, and it is too late to put old omitting to new committing. And so my noble and thrice worthy host of hosts, I omit not to commit you and yours to the protection of him that made you, desiring you to take this merry Pamphlet in good part, or in earnest of my better amends, and as a qualifier of your Just anger.  
Yours in the best of his eudeavours to be commanded, JOHN TAYLOR.   

To the Reader.  

MY hearty condemnations, I send forth,  
Unto a crew of Rascals, nothing worth,  
(Yet in some sort I wrong their high reputes  
Some of them are worth hanging for their suits)  
Such as (to pay debts) have the means, not minds,  
Whose words, and bonds, are coustant as the winds,  
Such as think satisfaction is a sin,  
And he most verivous that's in debt most in,  
Such for whose sakes, (to my aparent loss)  
To Germany, I twice the Seas did cross,  
To Scotland all on foot, and back from thence,  
Not any Coin about me for expense,  
And with a Rotten weak Brown paper Boat,  
To Quinborough, from London I did float:  
Next to Bohemia, o'er the raging maine,  
And troublous lands, I went, and came again.  
Next with a Wherry, I to York did Ferry,  
Which I did find a voyage very merry.  
And lastly, late I made a desperate launte,  
From Famous London, (sometimes Troynou●nte)  
To Salisbury, through many a bitter blast,  
I, Rocks, and Sands, and foaming Billows past,  
That in ten thousand mouths, the City round,  
The lying, flying, news was, I was drowned:  
But I may see them hanged before that day,  
Who are my Debtors, can, and will not pay:  
These toil some passages I undertook,  
And gave out Coin, and many a hundred Book,  
Which these base Mongrels took, and promised me  
To give me siue for one, some four, some three:  
But now these Hounds, no other pay affords,  
Then shifting, scornful looks, and seuruy words;  
And sure I think, if I should harrow Hell.  
Where Devils, and cursed Reprobates do dwell,  
I might find many there, that are their betters,  
And have more conscience, than my wicked debtors.  
Thus to my sevenfold troop of friends and foes,  
My thanks, and angry Muse, thus onward goes.    

The Why and the Wherhfore.  
I Have published this Pamphlet, to let my rich debtors understand, that as often as I meet them, I do look that they should pay me: and although I am shamefast in not ask my due, yet I would not have them shameless in detaining it from me, because the sums are but small, and very easy for them (in general) to pay, and would do me a particular good to receive.  
Secondly, I have sent this into the world, to inform some, that through their want do shun and avoid my sight and company, that they are much deceived in my disposition: for I ever did esteem an honest heart and a willing mind, as well as their performances.  
Thirdly, there are some great men, who by reason of their extraordinary employments, my small acquaintance, and less means of access unto them, with my want of impudency, and their men's want of courtesy to inform them, all these are lets, and demurs, against my satisfaction  
Lastly, the daily abuses that I have concerning the book of my Travels, wherein I am accused for lies, and falsifications; but I do and ever will steadfastly stand to the truth of every title of it, except the a-buse that I did to Master Hilton at Daintree, & that was not done on known malice neither, but on blind ignorant information: and there is a second Edition of my books of ●●auels coming forth, wherein I will Satyrize, Cauterize, and Stigmatize all the whole kennel of curs that dares maliciously snarl against manifest, apparent, and well known truths. In the mean space, you that are my debtors, if you please to pay me, you shall therein put yourselves out of a bad number amongst which you yet are placed: if you will not pay me, take this bone to gnaw upon, That I do hope to be ever better furnished with money, than you shall be with honesty.  I. T.  

A Table of the general heads, containing seven parts.  

1 THose that have paid.  
2 Those that would pay if they could.  
3 Those that walk invisible, and are not to be found,  
4 Those that say they will pay, who knows when.  
5 Those that are dead.  
6 Those that are fled.  
7 Those Roarers that can pay, and will not.   
 

Those that To ever mean to pay,  
Nothing at all this book doth sar:  
To such my Satire talketh still,  
As have not paid, nor ever will.    

A Kicksey Winsey, OR A Lerry Come-Twang: Wherein john Taylor hath Satirically suited 750. of his bad debtors, that will not pay him for his return of his tourney from Scotland.  

1. My thanks to those that have paid.  

YOu Worthy Worthies, of that liberal Tribe,  
Who freely gave your words, or did subscribe:  
And were not itched with the vainglorious worm,  
To write and lie, but promise and perform,  
Black Swans of Britain, I ptotest you are,  
And seem (to me) each one a Blazing Star;  
For this inconstant Age so few affords  
Of men, whose deeds do counterpoise their words,  
That finding one, me thinks I see a wonder,  
More than December's Fruit, or Winter's Thunder,  
Ingratitude, I hold a vice so vile,  
That I could ne'er endure't a breathing while,  
And therefore, ere I'll prove a thankless jade,  
Time in his course shall run quite retrograde;  
Yea, every thing shall hate his proper kind,  
Before I'll harbour an ingrateful mind:  
And still I vow to quit you in some part,  
With my best wishes, and a thankful heart:  
So much to you, my Muse hath sung, or said  
Whose loving bounties hath the Sculler paid.    

2. Those that would pay if they could.  

ANd as for you that would pay, if you could,  
I thank you, though you do not as you should  
You promised fair, and wrote as free as any,  
But Time hath altered since, the case with many;  
Your monies, like low Tides, are ebbed too low,  
And when 'tis lowest 'twill begin to flow.  
To seek a breech from breechlesse men'twere vain,  
And sruitlesse labour would requite my pain:  
It were no Charity (as I suppose)  
To bid one wipe his nose, that wants a nose;  
And sure my Conscience would be less than little,  
T'enrich myself, by robbing of the spital:  
No, honest friends (to end this vain dispute)  
Your barren states may spring, & bring forth fruit;  
Your wills are good, and whilst I keep your bills  
Instead of payment I accept good wills;  
On hope and expectation I will feed,  
And take your good endeavours for the deed:  
Praying that Crosses in your minds may cease,  
And Crosses in your purses may increase.    

3. Those that are hard for me to find, and being found, were better lost.  

ANother sort of debtors are behind,  
Some I know not, and some I cannot find:  
And some of them lies here and there, by spirits,  
Shifting their lodgings oftener than their shirts.  
Perchance I hear where one of these men lies,  
And in the morning up betimes I rise,  
And find in Shoreditch where he lodged a night;  
But he to Westminster hath ta'en his flight.  
Some two days after thither do I troth,  
And find his lodging, but yet find him not,  
For he the night before (as people tell)  
Hath ta'en a chamber about Clarkenwell.  
Thither go I, and make a privy search,  
Whilst he's in Southwark, near S. George his Church,  
A pox upon him, all this while think I,  
Shall I ne'er find out where my youth doth lie?  
And having sought him many a weary bout,  
At last perhaps I find his chamber out:  
But then the Gentleman is fast in bed,  
And rest hath seized up on his running head;  
He hath taken cold with going late by water,  
Or sat up late at Ace. Deuse, Trey, and Cater,  
That with a Sink of fifty pieces price,  
He sleeps till noon before his Worship rise;  
At last he wakes; his man informs him strait,  
That I at door do on his pleasure wait;  
Perhaps I am requested to come near  
And drink a cup of either ale or beer,  
Whilst sucking English fire, and Indian vapour,  
At last I greet him with my bill of paper:  
Well john (quoth he) this hand I know is mine,  
But I this day do purpose to go dine  
At the half Moon in Milk-street, prithee come,  
And there we'll drink, and pay this petty Sum,  
I take my leave, he in his sleeve doth laugh  
Whilst I believe him (like john hold my staff)  
I in the Tavern stay, and wait his pleasure,  
And he to keep his word can find no leisure.  
Thus many a street by me recrost, and crossed  
I in and out, and to and fro, am tossed.  
And spend my time and coin to find one out,  
Which having found, rewards me with a flout.  
In this base fashion, or such like as this,  
To me their scurvy daily dealing is:  
As one's in's study, t'others deep in talk,  
Another's in his Garden gone to walk:  
One's in the barber's suddes, and cannot see,  
Till chin and chaps are made a Roman T:  
And for his making thus a Gull of me,  
I wish his cut may be the Grecian P. 
〈◊〉   
These men can kiss their claws, with jack how is't  
And take and shake me kindly by the fist,  
And put me off with dilatory cogs,  
And swear and lie, worse than a sort of dogs,  
Protesting they are glad I am returned,  
When they'd be gladder I were hanged or burned.  
Some of their pockets are oft stored with chink,  
Which they had rather waste on drabs, dice, drink,  
Then a small pelty sum to me to pay,  
Although I meet them every other day;  
For which to ease my mind to their disgrace,  
I must (perforce) in Print proclaim them base;  
And if they pay me not (unto their shames)  
I'll print their trads, their dwellings & their names,  
That boys shall hiss them as they walk along,  
Whilst they shall stink, & do their breeches wrong:  
Pay then, delay not, but with speed disburse,  
Or if you will, try but who'll have the worse.    

4. Those that will and do daily pay me in drink and smoke.  

A Fourth crew I must drop from out my quill,  
Are some that have not paid, yet say they will:  
And their remembrance gives my muddy mood,  
More joy than of those that will ne`re be good.  
These fellows my sharp Muse shall lash but soft,  
Because I meet them to their charges oft,  
Where at the Tavern (with free frolic hearts)  
They welcome me with pottles, pints, and quarts;  
And they (at times) will spend like honest men,  
Twelve shillings, rather than pay five or ten.  
These are Right Gentlemen, who bear a mind  
To spend, and be as liberal as the wind:  
But yet their bounty (when they come to pay)  
Is bountiful in nothing but delay.  
These I do never seek from place to place,  
These make me not to run the wild-goose chase;  
These do from day to day not put me off,  
And in the end reward me with a scoff.  
And for their kindness, let them take their leisure,  
To pay or not pay, let them use their pleasure  
Let them no worse than they are, still prove  
Their powers may chance outdo me, not their love;  
I meet them to my peril, and their cost,  
And so in time there's little will be lost.  
Yet the old proverb I would have them know,  
The horse may statue the whilst the grass doth grow.    

5. Those that are dead.  

A fifth sort (God be with them) they are dead,  
And every one my quittance under's head:  
To ask them coin, I know they have it not,  
And where nought is, there's nothing to be got.  
I'll never wrong them with invective lines,  
Nor trouble their good heirs, or their assigues.  
And some of them, their life's loss to me were,  
In a large measure of true sorrow dear;  
As one brave Lawyer, whose true honest spirit  
Doth with the blessed celestial souls inherit.  
He whose grave wisdom gained pre-eminence,  
To grace and favour with his gracious Prince;  
Adorn, d with learning, loved, approved, admir'de,  
He, my true friend, too soon to dust retir'de.  
Besides, a number of my worthy friends  
(To my great loss) death brought unto their ends.  
Rest gentle spirits, rest, with Eternising,  
And may your corpses have all a joyful rising:  
There's many living, every day I see,  
Who are more dead than you in pay to me.    

6. Those that are fled.  

A sixth, with tongs glib, like the tails of eels,  
Hath showed this land and me foul pairs of heels  
To Ireland, Belgis Germany, and France.  
They are retir'de to seek some better chance.  
T' was their unhappy inauspicious Fate,  
The Counters, or King Luds unlucky Gate;  
Bonds being broke, the stones in every street,  
They durst not tread on, lest they burned their feet;  
Smoke by the pipe, and ginger by the race,  
They lou, d with Ale, but never loved the Mace.  
And these men's honesties are like their states,  
At piteous, woeful, and at low prized rates;  
For partly they did know when they did take  
My books, they could no satisfaction make.  
And honesty this document doth teach  
That man shall never strive above his reach,  
Yet have they reached, and overreacht me still,  
To do themselves no good, and me much ill.  
But farewell friends, if you again do come,  
And pay me either all, or none, or some:  
I look for none, and therefore still delay me,  
You only do deceive me if you pay me.  
Yet that deceit from you were but my due;  
But I look ne'er to be deceived by you.  
Your stocks are poor, your Creditors are store,  
Which God increase, and decrease, I implore.    

7. Those that are as far from honesty as a Turk is from true Religion.  

seventhly, and lasts a worthy worthless crew,  
Such as heaven hates, & hell on earth doth spew,  
And God renounce, & damn them, are their prayers,  
Yet some of these sweet youths are good men's heirs:  
But up most tenderly they have been brought  
And all their breeding better fed then taught:  
And now their lives float in damnation's stream,  
To stab, drab, kill, swil, tear, swear, stare, blaspheme:  
In imitation worse than devil's apes,  
Or Incubuses thrust in humane shapes:  
As bladders full of others wind is blown,  
So self-conceit doth puff them of their own:  
They deem their wit all other men surpasses,  
And other men esteem them witless asses.  
These pucksoyst cockbrained coxcombs, shallow pated.  
Are things that by their Tailors are created;  
For they before were simple shapeless worms,  
Until their makers licked them into sormes.  
'tis ignorant Idolatry most base,  
To worship Satin Satan, or gold lace;  
T'adore a velvet varlet, whose repute  
Stinks odious, but for his perfumed suit.  
If one of these to serve some Lord doth get,  
His first task is, to swear himself in debt:  
And having pawned his soul to Hell for oaths.  
He pawns those oaths for newfound fashion clothes.  
His carcase cased in this borrowed case,  
Imagines he doth me exceeding grace;  
If when I meet him, he bestows a nod,  
Then must I think me highly blest of God.  
Perhaps (though for a Woodcock I repute him,)  
I veil my bonnet to him, and salute him:  
But sure my salutation is as evil,  
As Infidels that do adore the Devil.  
For they do worship Satan for no good,  
Which they expect from his infernal mood,  
But for they know he's author of all ill,  
And o'er them hath a power to spoil and kill●  
They therefore do adore him in the dirt,  
Not hoping any good, but fearing hurt.  
So I do seem these mimmicks, to respect  
Not, that from them I any good expect;  
(For I from dog's dung can extract pure honey,  
As soon as from these widgeons get my money)  
But I (in courtesy) to them have b●●de,  
Because they shall not say, I ●m grown proud;  
And sure if harmless true humility,  
May spring from money wanting poverty,  
I have of debtors such a stinking store,  
Will make me humble, for they'll keep me poor.  
And though no wiser than flat fools they be,  
A good luck on them they're too wise for me;  
They with a courtly trick, or a flim flam,  
Do nod at me, whilst I the noddy am:  
One part of Gentry they will ne'er forget,  
And that is, that they ne'er will pay their debt.  
To take, and to receive, they hold it fit,  
But to requite, or to restore's no wit.  
Then let them take and keep, but knocks, and pox,  
And all diseases from Pandora's box.  
And which of them says that I rave or rail,  
Let him but pay, and bid me kiss his T.  
But sure the Devil hath taught them many a trick,  
Beyond the numbering of Arithmetic.  
I meet one, thinking for my due to speak,  
He with evasions doth my purpose break,  
And asks what news I hear from France or Spain,  
Or where I was in the last shower of rain;  
Or when the Court removes, or what's a clock,  
Or where's the wind (or some such windy mock)  
With such sine scimble, scemble, spitter, spatter,  
As puts me clean besides the mony-matter.  
Thus with poor mongrel shifts, with what, where, when,  
I am abused by these things, like men.  
And some of them do glory in my want,  
They being Romists, I a Protestant:  
Their Apostatical injunctions faith,  
To keep their faith with me, is breach of faith:  
For 'tis a Maxim of such Catholics,  
'tis Meritorious to plague Heretics;  
Since it is so, pray pay me but my due,  
And I will love the Cross as well as you.  
And this much further I would have you know,  
My shame is more to ask, than yours to owe:  
I beg of no man, 'tis my own I crave,  
Nor do I seek it but of them that have:  
There's no man was enforced against his will,  
To give his word, or sign unto my bill.  
And is't not shame, nay more than shame to hear,  
That I should be returned above a year,  
And many Rich-man's words, and bills have past,  
And took of me both books, both first and last,  
Whilst twice or thrice a week, in every street,  
I meet those men, and not my money meet.  
Were they not able me amends to make,  
My conscience then, would sooner give then take;  
But most of those I mean, are full pursed Hinds,  
Being beggarly in nothing but their minds:  
Yet sure me thinks, if they would do me right,  
Their minds should be as free to pay, as write.  
Near threescore pounds, the books I'm sure did cost  
Which they have had from me, and I think lost:  
And had not these men's tongues so forward been,  
Ere I my painful journey did begin,  
I could have had good men in meaner Raiment,  
That long ere this, had made me better payment:  
I made my journey for no other ends,  
But to get money, and to try my friends:  
And not a friend I had, for worth, or wit  
Did take my book, or past his word, or writ:  
But I (with thankfulness) still understood  
They took, in hope to give, and do me good.  
They took a book worth 1●. pence, & were bound  
To give a Crown, an Angel, or a pound.  
A Noble piece, or half piece, what they list,  
They past their words, or freely set their fist.  
Thus got I sixteen hundred hands and fifty.  
Which sum I did suppose was somewhat thrifty  
And now my youths, with shifts, & tricks, & cavils,  
Above seven hundred, plays the sharking javils.  
I have performed what I undertook,  
And that they should keep touch with me I look:  
Four thousand, and five hundred books I gave  
To many a honest man, and many a knave;  
Which books, and my expense to give them out,  
(A long year seeking this con●used rout)  
I'm sure it cost me sevenscore pounds and more,  
With some suspicion that I went on score.  
Besides above a thousand miles I went,  
And (though no money) yet much time I spent;  
Taking excessive labour, and great pains,  
In heat, cold, wet, and dry, with feet and brains:  
With tedious toil, making my heartstrings ache,  
In hope I should content, both give and take,  
And in requital now, for all my pain,  
I give content still, and get none again.  
None did I say? I'll call that word again,  
I meet with some that pay me now, and then,  
But such a toil I have those men to seek,  
And find (perhaps) 2, 3, or 4, a week,  
That too too oft, my lose gettings be,  
To spend 5. crowns in gathering in of three.  
And thus much to the world I dare avow,  
That my oft walks to get my money now,  
With my expenses, seeking of the same,  
Returning many a night home, tired and lame,  
Meeting some thirty, forty in a day,  
That sees me, knows me, owes me, yet none pay.  
Used and abused thus, both in town and Court,  
It makes me think my Scottish walk a sport:  
I muse of what stuff these men framed be,  
Most of them seem Mockado unto me:  
Some are Stand-further off, for they endeaver,  
Never to see me or to pay me never.  
When first I saw them, they appeared Rash,  
And now their promises are worse than trash;  
No Taffeta more changeable than they,  
In nothing constant, but no debts to pay.  
And therefore let them take it as they will,  
I'll canvas them a little with my quill.  
To all the world I humbly do appeal,  
And let it judge, if well these men do deal,  
Or whether for their hasenesse, 'twere not fitter,  
That I should use more gall, and write more bitter?  
I wrote this book before but for this end,  
To warn, them, and their faults to reprehend;  
But if this warning will not serve the turn,  
I swear by sweet Satiric Nash his urn,  
On every pissing post, their names I'll place,  
Whilst they past shame, shall shame to show their face,  
I'll hale fell Nemesis, from This his den,  
To aid and guide my sharp revenging pen;  
That fifty Pope's Bulls never shall roar louder,  
Nor fourscore Cannons when men fire their powder.  
And sure, my wronged muse, could lines indite,  
So full of horror, terror, and affright,  
That they (like Cain) confessing their estates,  
But little better than base Reprobates;  
And hang themselves in their despairing moods,  
But that I'll not be guilty of their bloods.  
No, let such fellows know, that Time shall try  
My mercy's greater than their honesty:  
Nor shall my verse afford them no such favour,  
To make them save the hangman so much labour,  
They are contented still to patch and palter,  
And I (with patience) wish them each a halter,  
They are well pleased to be perfidious fellows,  
And my revenge bequeathes them to the gallows;  
For I would have them this much understand,  
Words are but wind, 'tis money that buys land:  
Words buys no food, or clothes, to give content,  
Bare words will never pay my Landlord rend.  
And those that can pay Coin, and pays but words,  
My mind, a mischief to them all affords,  
I count them like old shoes, past all men's mending,  
And therefore may the Gallows be their ending:  
If some of them would but ten hours spare  
From drinking, drabbing, and superfluous fare,  
From smoking English fire, and heathen stink,  
The most of them might well pay me my chink.  
There's no wound deeper than a pen can give,  
It makes men living dead, and dead men live;  
It can raise honour drowned in the sea,  
And blaze it forth in glory, Cap. a. pea.  
Why it can scale the battlements of Heaven,  
And stellify men amongst the Planets seven:  
It can make miser's, peasants, knaves and fools  
The scorn of goodness, and the devil's close stools.  
Forgot had been the thrice three worthies names,  
If thrice three Muses, had not writ their fames:  
And if it not with flattery be infected,  
Good is by it extolled, and bade corrected.  
Let judgement judge them, what mad men are those  
That dare against a pen themselves oppose,  
Which (when it likes) can turn them all to loathing  
To any thing, to nothing, worse than nothing.  
Yet ere I went, these men to write did like,  
And used a pen more nimbly than a pike;  
And writ their names (as I supposed) more willing,  
Then valiant soldiers with their Pikes are drilling.  
But this experience, by these men I find,  
Their words are like their payment, all but wind,  
But what wind 'tis, is quickly understood,  
It is an evil wind, blows no man good:  
Or else they make it to the World appear,  
That writing is good cheap, and paying dear.  
No paper bill of mine had edge upon it,  
Till they their hands and names had written on it;  
And if their judgements be not overseen,  
They would not fear, the edge is not so keen.  
Some thousands, and some hundreds by the year  
Are worth, yet they their piece or half piece fe●●e;  
They on their own bills are a afraid to enter,  
And I upon their pieces dare to v●nter:  
But who so at the bill hath better skill,  
Give me the piece, and let him take the bill.  
I have met some that odiously have lied,  
Who to deceive me, have their names denied;  
And yet they have good honest Christian names,  
As joshua, Richard, Robert, john and james:  
To cheer me with base Inhumanity,  
They have denied their Christianity,  
A half piece, or a Crown, or such a sum,  
Hath forced them falsify their Christendom:  
Denying good, ill names with them agree,  
And they that have ill names half hanged be,  
And sure I think my loss would be but small,  
If for a quittance they were hanged up all.  
Of such I am past hope, and they past grace,  
And hope and grace both past's, a wretched case.  
It may be that for my offences past,  
God hath upon me this disturbance cast:  
If it be so, I thank his Name therefore,  
Confessing I deserve ten times much more;  
But as the Devil is author of all ill,  
So ill for ill, on th'ill, he worketh still;  
Himself, his servants, daily lie and lurk  
Man's cares on earth, or pains in hell to work.  
See how the case then with my debtors stands,  
They take the devil's office out on's hands;  
Tormenting me on earth, for passed evils,  
And for the devil, doth vex me worse than devils.  
In troth 'tis pity, proper men they seem,  
And those that know them not, would never deem  
That one of them would basely seem to meddle,  
To be the devil's hangman or his beadle.  
For shame, for honesty, for both, for either,  
For my deserts desertless, or for neither  
Discharge yourselves from me, you know wherefore,  
And never serve, or help the Devil more.  
I have heard some that Lawyers do condemn,  
But I still must, and will speak well of them;  
Though never in my life, they had of me  
Clerks, Counsellors, or yet Aturneys' fee,  
Yet at my back return, they all concurred  
And paid me what was due, and ne'er demurred.  
Some Counter-serieants, when I came again,  
(Against their nature) dealt like honest men.  
By wondrous accident perchance one may  
Grope out a needle in a load of hay:  
And though a white crow be exceeding rare,  
A blind man may (by fortune) catch a Hare,  
So may a sergeant have some honest tricks  
If too much knavery doth not over-mix.  
Newgate (the University of stealing)  
Did deal with me with upright honest dealing.  
My debtors all (for aught that I can see)  
Will still remain true debtors unto me;  
For if to paying once they should incline,  
They would not then be debtors long of mine.  
But this report I fear, they still will have,  
To be true debtors even to their grave.  
I know there's many worthy projects done,  
The which more credit, and more coin hath won,  
And 'tis a shame for those (I dare maintain)  
That break their words, & not requite their pain:  
I speak to such, if any such there be,  
If there be none, would there were none for me.  
But Mr. Barnard Caluard, too well knows,  
The fruits of windy promise and fair shows,  
With great expense, and peril, and much pain  
He road by land, and crossed the raging Main  
In fifteen hours, he did ride and go,  
From Southwark near to Calais, too and fro.  
When he to his cost, and detriment,  
Sbewed us a memorable precedent,  
In finding out a speedy worthy way,  
For news 'twixt France and London in one day;  
And yet this well deserving Gentleman,  
Is cheated of his Coin, do what he can,  
From him they could both goods and money take,  
But to him they●●● no satisfaction make,  
Their promises were five, or ten for one,  
And their performances are few, or none.  
Therefore it is some comfort unto me,  
When such a man of rank, and note, as he,  
In stead of Coin is paid with promises,  
My being cheated grieves me much the less;  
Of worthy Gentlemen, I could name more,  
That have past dangers both on seas and shore,  
And on good hopes did venture out their gold,  
To some that will no faith, or promise hold,  
But basely do detain, and keep back all  
Th'expected profit, and the principal:  
Yet this one comfort may expel our cross,  
Though we endure, time, coin, and labours loss:  
Yet their abuse doth make our fame more great,  
'Tis better to be cheated, then to cheat.  
Except the poor, the proud, the base, the Gallant.  
Those that are dead, or fled, or out of Town:  
Such as I know not, nor to them am known,  
Those that will pay (of which there's some small number,  
And those that smile to put me to this cumber,  
In all they are eight hundred, and some odd,  
But when they'll pay me's only known to God.  
Some crowns, some pounds, sun nobles, some a royal;  
Some good, some naught, some worse, most bad in trial.  
ay, like a boy, that shooting with a bow,  
Hath lost his shaft where weeds and bushes grow;  
Who having searched, and raked, and scraped, & tossed  
To find his arrow that he late hath lost:  
At last a crotchet comes into his brain,  
To stand at his first shooting place again;  
Then shoots, and lets another arrow fly  
Near as he thinks his other shaft may lie:  
Thus venturing, he perhaps finds both or one,  
The worst is, if he lose both, he finds none.  
So I that have of books so many given,  
To this compared Exigent am driven:  
To shoot this Pamphlet, and to ease my mind,  
To lose more yet, or something lost to find,  
As many brooks, fords, showers of rain, & springs,  
Unto the Thames their often tribute brings,  
These subjects paying, not their stocks decrease,  
Yet by those payments, Thames doth still increase:  
So I that have of debtors such a swarm,  
Good they might do me, and themselves no harm  
Inuective lines, or words, I write nor say  
To none but those that can, and will not pay:  
And who so pays with good, or with ill will,  
Is freed from out the compass of my quill.  
They must not take me for a Stupid ass,  
That I (unfeeling) will let these things pass.  
If they bear minds to wrong me, let them know  
I have a tongue and pen, my wrongs to show;  
And be he ne'er so brisk, or neat, or trim,  
That bids a pish for me, a rush for him;  
To me theyare rotten trees, with beauteous thinds  
Fair form caskers of deformed minds.  
Or like dispersed flocks of scattered sheep,  
That will no pasture, or decorum keep:  
So, 〈◊〉 wildly skipping into unknown grounds,  
Stray into foreign and forbidden bounds;  
Where some through want, some through excess have got  
The scab, the worm, the murrain, or the rot.  
But whilst they wander guideless, uncontrolled,  
I'll do my best to bring them to my fold;  
And seeing sheepfold hurdles here are scant,  
I am enforced to supply that want  
With railing; and therefore mine own to win,  
Like rotten forlorn sheep, I'll rail them in.     

In defence of Adventurers upon Returns.  
FOrasmuch as there are many, who either out of pride, malice, or ignorance, do speak harshly, and hardly of me and of diverse others, who have attempted and gone dangerous voyages by sea with small Wherries or Boats, or any other adventure upon any voyage by land, either Riding, Going, or Running, alleging that we do tempt God by undertaking such perilous courses (which indeed I cannot deny to be true) yet not to extenuate or make my faults less than they are: I will hear approve that all men in the world are Adventurers upon Return, and that we do all generally tempt the patience and long suffering of God, as I will make it appear as followeth.  
Whosoever is an Idolater, a superstitious Heretic, an odious and frequent swearer, or liar, a griping usurer, or uncharitable extortioner, doth tempt God, adventure their souls, and upon return lose Heaven.  
Whosoever is a whoremaster, doth adventure his health, and wealth, and his returns are ●udlesse misery, beggary, and the pox.  
Whosoever doth continue, plot, or commit treason, doth adventure his soul to the devil, and his body to the Hangman.  
Whosoever do marry a young and beautiful maid, doth adventure a great hazard for a blessing or a curse.  
Whosoever goes a long journey, and leaves his fair wife at home, doth most dangerously adventure for horns, if she be not the honester.  
He that sets his hand to a bond, or passes his word for another man's debt, doth Adventure a great hazard to pay both principal and interest. Probatumest.  
That Pastor who is either negligent or uncharitable in his function, doth Adventure more than he will ever recover.  
A Merchant doth Adventure ship, and goods amongst flats, shoals, deeps, Pirates, shelves, rocks, gusts, storms, flaws, tempests, mists, fogs, winds, seas, heats, colds, and calms, and all for hope of profit, which often fails.  
That Tradesman that daily trusts more aware than he receives money for, doth Adventure for Ludgate, a breaking, or a cracking of his credit.  
He or she who are proud either of beauty, riches, wit, learning, strength, or any thing which is transitory, and may be lost, either by fire, water, sickness, death, or any other casualty, do Adventure to be accounted vainglorious, and ridiculous Coxcombs.  
He that puts confidence in Drabs, Dice, Cards, Balls, Bowls, or any game lawful or unlawful doth adventure to be laughed at for a fcole, or dye a beggar unpityed.  
He that eats, and driukes till midnight, and fights, and brawls till daylight, doth Adventure for little rest that night.  
To conclude, I could name and produce abundance more of Adventurers, but as concerning adventuring any more dangerous voyages to sea, with Wherries, or any extraordinary means, I have done my last, only my frailty will now and then provoke me to adventure upon some of those infirmities or vices, which attend on our mortalities, which I think I shall be free from committing, before my Debtors have paid me all my money.  
FINIS.